Fear Fire Foes
by Silmarilz1701
Summary: Fatty Bolger one-shot. Left behind to keep up appearances at Crickhollow, Fatty Bolger suddenly finds things all too crazy for his liking... or sanity.


A/N: A character who doesn't get much love became the subject of a writing assignment for my Creative Writing Fiction course this semester! Enjoy this one-shot.

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 **Fear Fire Foes**

 **Fredegar "Fatty" Bolger**

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Fredegar Bolger straightened his vest as he stared at the mirror in Crickhollow. It was nearly evening, almost time for his daily walk around the house just like Mister Frodo would've done. Unfortunately he couldn't be two people at once; it would've been quite handy to walk around as Sam as well. But he supposed it could not be helped.

He shook his head as he struggled to pull the middle-most button across his chest. "Eating too many mushrooms, Fredegar," he muttered to himself. "Of course, that isn't going to stop you." With a tight smile, he finally got the button through the slit and nodded. "Come on, off to work with you!"

But as soon as Fredegar approached the door, he felt chilly, much more than should've been normal on an autumn night. And more than that, shivers shot up his spine to his neck until he almost thought spiders had crawled onto him.

"Come on, Fatty, you've been feeling this all day," he muttered to himself firmly, standing in the hallway of Crickhollow. "Just spooked from the prospect of the Old Forest again."

With a fierce nod and a straightening of his vest, Fatty Bolger opened the large round door of the house at Crickhollow and stepped out into the fresh air of Buckland. He missed the Shire less than he figured his friends did; if Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Mister Frodo were even still alive in the Old Forest, he guessed they must very much miss it. As for himself, his home of Budgeford stood not far compared to Hobbiton.

A bird call to his left startled Fredegar out of his thoughts. He jumped, ducking from a nonexistent foe. As he hesitantly opened his eyes, he straightened up, scolding himself or his foolishness. "The Hedge keeps the Old Forest out, and those black riders aren't anywhere near...here…"

As he spoke the words out loud, he realized how insignificant and potentially inaccurate they were. The darkness of autumn night had fallen, and a chill spread through the air again faster than a natural breeze. Immediately Fatty decided that his nightly walk had gone on long enough. He all but ran back to the door and shut it. Panting, Fredegar sat in a chair beside the window and shook his head.

"Far too much adventure, Fatty, far too much."

He stayed there for several more hours. Though he certainly wished to sleep, the dread in his heart did not lift. He couldn't explain it… all he could do was sit with it. This upset him very much, of course, and so he grabbed a bit of tea and cakes to keep himself company.

By ten o'clock in the evening, Fatty very much wished he had not agreed to stay behind. The prospect of the Old Forest still frightened him, but this unending dread was unbearable. Just as he took a final sip of his tea he noted that the darkness behind the gate in the yard seemed… deeper. He dropped the cup. It shattered.

Pushing away the chair, Fredegar watched as the gate seemed to open without help and close again. That was all he needed to see for terror to completely seize his heart. He ran to the door, locking it with the chain lock he'd put up after his friends had left. And yet he knew it would not be enough. He knew. The black riders had come.

Fatty lost no time. Taking not even a cloak, he rushed out the back door as quietly as he could, for he had not completely lost his wits, not yet at least. He ran and ran, over the hills and along the Hedge and across a small river tributary of the Brandywine. He never stopped, all the while thoughts of black riders and the ring in his mind.

By the time he reached the next house a mile away, he collapsed, losing all wits. "Not me, not me! I haven't got it! I haven't! Not me!"

"What haven't you got?" asked the woman who came to the door crossly.

Fatty panted on the ground, huddled in on himseld. "Old forest! Not me! Don't hurt me!"

Eventually the homeowners gathered that some foe had entered Buckland, and that would not do at all. They lost no more time, sounding the horn of Buckland and rousing the town to arms.

"Awake! Fear, fire, foes! Awake!"

But Fatty was content to lay on the bed inside the house, entirely done with the whole affair. He hoped Mister Frodo and their companions had gotten away, but Fredegar wanted no more part. He decided he was going to go back home to Budgeford once these creatures had left. No more Old Forest tales for him.


End file.
